Crumple Up The Moon
by Thai M. Zoofquesque
Summary: It was as if the Norns had held the moon in front of him. And then blown it up in his face. And now Warren needs Percy Jackson's help to pick up the pieces. If, of course, Percy will give it. OC Norsefic, sequel to Come Hel or High Water.
1. Prologue

**Crumple Up the Moon**

_It was as if they'd dangled the moon in front of him-_

_and then blown it up in his face._

**Disclaimers**

_PJO belongs to Rick Riordan, the creator of this wonderful world. (This wonderful world being the PJO books.) Mallory, Warren, and most of the other Norse demigods belong to me. Gamle-Sti belongs to me as well. Satsuki Kusakabe belongs to a friend of mine, used with her permission. Percy and all other canon characters belong to, again, Rick Riordan._

_The flames belong to whoever sets the fires._

**A Pre-Thing**

_For those of you who are put off by OC stories, this is the time to leave. Most characters in this story are from my own head, although that makes me feel strangely like Zeus. For those of you who are put off by stories of demigods from other pantheons, this is the time to leave. While Percy and other canons will be in this fic, the Greek demigods are not the focus, and the author may write biased against them. _

_This fanfiction is the sequel to another one, _Come Hel or High Water._ If you haven't read it, it is strongly advised that you do so; otherwise you may not know what's going on._

_For those of you who are here to enjoy my writing, go on. And please leave a review with some constructive criticism._

-The Author

--

**Before**

Gamle-Sti was peaceful that morning.

It was warm; July tended to have that effect on weather. If you weren't in Brazil, I mean. The beach was covered with the plastic flotsam of young demigods, who were currently trooping back to their settlements with towels slung about their necks, ignoring the utter _dampness_ of their bathing suits. Lizards sat sunning themselves outside the office window, and somewhere a bird chirruped serenely. The flowers Corinne had decided to plant back in March were scattered throughout the entire grounds. I didn't know what they were called - why would I? - but even I had to admit they were beautiful.

Hel, even _Sierra_ said they were pretty.

"Damn, these flowers are pretty," Sierra said resignedly, as she pushed open the office door. In her arms she cradled two long flowerpots, both filled with white narcissus.

From my seat in the swivel chair besides the window I turned, a little surprised. "Oh, hey, Sie-"

She pushed past me without so much as an "excuse me" to place them carefully on the windowsill. The tiny green geckoes on the outside sill scattered.

"Cory's coming in later," she said shortly, not looking at me. "She says she's experimenting with the white flower things-"

"-they're called _narcissus,_ Sierra, even _I_ know that-"

"-whatever the Hel they're called. I would personally rather burn them to a crisp than put them on windowsills, but the hippy children like them and I would wake up with poison ivy in my bed if I tried." She gave me a look as if to say it was all my fault that the children of Idun were so obsessed with foliage. Totally ignoring, of course, the fact that I could no more help what the gods were the gods _of_ than I could have helped-

"Anyway, the Hippy Queen herself is heading over here soon. She has to ferry the small things into their places and then she'll be in." Sierra gave me another fierce, burning green-eyed look and stalked back towards the door. "Is there anything else I can be getting your highness?"

I paused. Then, tentatively, "... can I have a Monster?"

The look she gave me this time was more amused and exasperated than really angry. "Tyrsson, the day I bring you a Monster is the day that Svafnir comes back from the otherworldly province of Wherever the Hel Dead Monsters Go Before Respawn," she replied, and the door slammed shut.

I groaned. Sierra in a bad mood was the last thing I needed right now.

Using my feet, I dragged the swivel chair back to its proper place by the window and glanced out. Over the gaudy narcissus the lizards were slowly beginning to return; the distant beach was swarming with older demigods picking up after the little kids. But something was missing - something that had been there before Sierra's untimely storm.

Whatever it was, it wasn't coming back.

I sighed - bye, moment, catch you later - and shoved myself out of the swivel chair with probably a bit more force than necessary. It shot backwards, slamming into the wall behind me and almost knocking off a framed painting. I made a few cautious steps towards it, assuring myself that no, it would not actually fall - one of the Frey boys would be pissed if it ripped, and I'd probably spend the next couple of weeks trying not to get killed by corn – and it really didn't fall.

Which was good.

I ran a hand through my hair, making it look more like a brown owl on defensive instead of real hair, and exhaled loudly.

It was July, and I was still alive.

But Mallory Moore wasn't.

It was six months after I'd first left Gamle-Sti to travel to Washington, expecting a Norse demigod or demigoddess. We'd noticed the Brood—that is, the horde of Norse monsters that seemed to have a taste for Norse demigods—moving in that direction, collecting especially around Seattle.

I'd been sent, by popular vote of the council, to Seattle to track down this demigod and get them back to camp. I expected just another demigod to snag and take home, but I was not so lucky.

Instead, I got Mallory.

She was amusing, witty, sarcastic, and when you thought about how she joked in those last few minutes when she was dying, you could term her an optimist. Like most Norse demigods she was pretty, if you thought about it much, but I'd been surrounded by half-immortal girls for long enough that it didn't quite register anymore.

And now she was dead.

I heaved another sigh, blowing a strand of auburn hair out of my face, and stared out of the window again. She might not have liked it here. It was too bright for her tastes, I'd bet—she being the daughter of Hel.

I wondered if she was okay.

I wondered if she remembered me.

And, as I'd done hundreds of times over the past months, I wondered what Hel's words had meant, when she visited me that last time—remember the lightest.

_The lightest what? The lightest _of_ what? What was I supposed to remember?_

I felt a sudden vibration in my back pocket and fished out a black cell phone. I slid it open.

"Hello?"

"WARREN TYRSSON YOUR ASS IS GRASS."

I almost dropped the phone. Well, actually, I did drop the phone. And this time I was more careful in picking it up, by checking the caller ID.

It was Satsuki Kusakabe, female Heimdall representative on the Gamle-Sti council.

_Oh shi—_

"I know, I know, I know," I tried to reassure her, but the beast would not be consoled. As I hurried out of the office and down the hall, she continued to shriek at me about _morals_ and _obligations_ and how she was going to _kill_ me with _fortune cookies_.

"SHARP-EDGED FORTUNE COOKIES, TYRSSON!" she shrilled, as I stumbled out of the house we'd had built that March. "I WILL BUILD A TRANSFORMER OUT OF THEM AND KILL YOU. GET YOUR GRASSY ASS OVER HERE BEFORE I SET OPTIMUS ON YOU."

"Who the Hel is Optimus?"

"Jack."

"… who's Jack?"

"… dead men tell no tales, Tyrsson."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"YOUR FACE DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE!"

And she hung up.

I stared at the phone in disbelief for a moment and shook my head, then put it back into my pocket.

I went around in a circle to the back of the house, where there was a pair of double-doors set into the ground. The guy we'd had build the house had looked at us funny when we asked for a storm cellar, but then Satsuki had looked at _him_ funny and he'd shut up.

Satsuki was a scary person.

I slid the bolt from the storm doors and pulled them open, not without some effort. Those things were heavy. I could see the light on below and a circular table, around which were seated fifteen or so people.

I was late.

I stepped down through the doors, closing them behind me and almost hitting my head. A few people at the table turned to stare at me as I arrived.

And a particular girl—with short black hair covering one powder-blue eye—was glowering at me.

"Optimusss," she hissed threateningly, and the boy beside her (almost identical except for the fact that his eyes were purple and both visible) rolled his eyes.

"I think we all know she's crazy," Odd Hale said lazily, leaning back in the swivel chair and propping his boots up on the table. "Ignore her, Tyrsson."

I saluted mockingly and took my seat next to Peaseblossom, my sister. "Where're Hope and Jax?"

"The bubblies? Probably having a hippie festival on the shore," Sierra said disinterestedly. "They didn't feel like coming to our council."

"Is anyone else not here?"

"Anthony from Thor's not here, and Scorpius isn't either," Sierra went on. "He said something about watching the radar. Monica's with him."

Reese Dane held up his hands in an "I surrender" motion when I looked at him. "Hey, I'm not responsible for what she does," he said, blinking his eyes in a perfect Frey look. I rubbed my temples.

"Anyway. What are we discussing this time?"

Pease stood up, motioned to Reese. He reached for the projector in the middle of the table and flipped it on. At the same time, Sierra reached for the lightswitch and turned it off.

An image of the Wisconsin coastline was projected onto the wall, with a number of pale blue-white dots covering the coastline near our camp—at the junction between Michigan and Wisconsin. I frowned.

"Giants," Pease said solemnly, and placed her hands on the table. "These dots are all giants. There are sixteen of them. I counted, with help from Reese and Anthony. That's what Scorpius and Monica are observing right now. The Brood isn't all we have to worry about anymore."

"Ragnarok is coming," Odd said seriously, and half of those seated at the table turned to look at him. "The gods have reawakened. The Brood is returning. And now… the giants. Who knows how long it'll be until Fenrir breaks free? Until Skoll and Mati return? Until the skies go dark and everything is… gone…"

There was a pause, and then I said firmly, "We'll do everything in our power to never let that happen."

"By fighting giants and monsters that just come back later anyway?" Odd sighed. "We can't stop Ragnarok. It will happen. We can't stop it."

"But we can try."

We were quiet for a moment more, and then the silence was broken by a scream.

I—and most of the others—leapt to my feet, staring at the storm cellar doors. There was a scrabbling noise on the other side as someone pulled the bolt back, and then Corinne Holt, daughter of Idun, threw the doors open and stared inside. Her green eyes were wide and panicked.

"Giants on the coastline!"


	2. Old Moon

**Chapter One**

**Old Moon**

--

_Oh, shit._

"Pease! Reese! Bindy! Sierra! Satsuki!" I barked, springing to my feet. _Stupid, stupid, _stupid! How could I have let my guard down after last December? "Get your siblings together and hold the things off!"

Reese and Satsuki were on their feet in an instant. "On it!"

"Odd! Get Anthony and Scorpius, round up the rest of the settlements! Find Monica—get them all to the bus! _Now!_"

Now I could hear the distant thunder of footsteps, and massive splashes—and by the sound of it, the kids noticed it too.

_Shit—!_

Without another word, I threw the door open and tore out into the sunshine.

Njord—the Njord kids were closest to the house. I swiveled in a tight circle, getting my bearings, and then sprinted off towards the east.

The pounding of giant footsteps was getting louder from the north. It sounded as if they were almost there—and as I ran along the beach towards the territory of Hope and Jax, something blocked out the sun.

I stumbled and almost fell on my sword, which I'd apparently ripped from its sheath without noticing. A quick glance towards what had once been the sun confirmed my horrible suspicions.

They were here.

One of the biggest giants, still several hundred miles out in the water, loomed over me, grinning with crooked teeth. His head blocked out the sunlight; a virtual eclipse engulfed Gamle-Sti.

I ran faster.

I slid to a stop next to the hand-woven tent that belonged to Hope Bannerman, and without any grace, kicked it down. It was no big loss.

A small girl sat, slightly stunned, where her tent had just been, and then directed a crabby blue-eyed stare at me. Hope was a tiny thing, with thick wavy black hair, yellowy skin, and ice-blue eyes, and most of the time she wasn't scary at all.

Except for right now.

"What are you doing, Warren?" she shrieked, waving her arms in my direction. "I just got it set up after it fell down last ti—"

Then she looked up and saw the giants.

"… Oh."

"Yeah, _oh,_" I said furiously.

In Gamle-Sti, a siren suddenly began shrieking, starting up a chain reaction of screaming and the council members pressing their own air horns. Some enterprising soul had apparently pushed the big red button that started the Klaxon, and now all Hel truly broke loose.

The rest of Hope's siblings poured from their tents, scrabbling for a hold to clamber up the beach to safety. Nimbly, Hope herself sprang to her feet and grabbed for her council air horn.

"_Alrighty, guys!_" she screeched piercingly, effectively halting the flood of rabid demigods fleeing for their lives. All of them looked back at her with terrified blue-green eyes. "_So as you may have noticed, we're being attacked by giants! DO NOT PANIC!_ _Run for the bus and STAY CALM!_"

Easy for her to say.

I took off, heading for the Idun and Bragi settlement. The two were one settlement, seeing as Idun and Bragi were married (and their children, more often than not, ended up tying the knot as well).

The giants were moving faster now, but not much. To them we probably appeared like madly scurrying ants, while to us they were so very slow.

I could only hope they were slow enough.

I had to shove my way through panicking demigods, all streaming towards the huge purple bus at the entrance of Gamle-Sti. I almost tripped on a kid barely larger than toddler age whose curly blonde locks marked him instantly as a child of Frey.

"Hey, you!" I shouted at random, and when a preteen son of Idun turned to me, wide-eyed, I thrust the child into his arms. "Get him back to his siblings," I said harshly, and tore on.

In the Idun settlement, there was a young girl in a white dress, sitting calmly in the center picking grass. Around her, her sisters and brothers streamed steadily out of their group of tents. Sigurd May—dark of skin and slight of face—kneeled beside her, shaking her shoulder gently.

He was in the process of explaining to her why it would be a very bad idea to stay here with the big men coming, but I snatched her up before he could finish. She let out an anguished cry as the blades of grass dropped from her hands, but Sigurd tucked a cloth doll into her arms as we ran.

"Glad—to see—you here—Warren," he panted. "Tara—didn't want—to leave—"

"Take her," I barked, pausing to ferry the toddler to him. "Is everyone out of your group?"

"Yes—"

"Good!"

Summoning an energy I didn't think I'd known I had, I flew for the bus, looking for Sierra.

The telltale mane of frizzy orange hair—there! I practically fell on my face speeding up to tag her on the shoulder. She turned—

It wasn't Sierra. Just one of her siblings, too inexperienced to defend the frontier.

"Where's Sierra?" I hissed. "She—"

"I'm right here, Tyrsson!" a voice snapped behind me, and I whirled. Sierra brandished Rat, eyes alight with jade war-fire.

"Go," I said harshly. "You're our fastest runner—go around the perimeter making sure everyone's on the bus. Go! _Move!_"

She moved. In a seamless move she was in motion, Rat sheathed, and fairly blurring away from us.

The giants were almost close enough to step on us now, and I was almost panicking. All the settlements were on the bus—

—_except the ones I'd sent out to fend them off!_

"Warren!"

"_Oy!_" I roared, for a moment loud enough to be heard across the entire campus of Gamle-Sti. "_Everyone who values their lives, get to the fucking bus or die!_"

Oh, yeah. That brought 'em in all right.

Pease arrived first, at the head of a column of my brothers and sisters. They loaded into the bus—I counted quickly, and everyone was there, thank gods—closely followed by Bindy and Anthony of the Thor cabin.

Anthony snapped me a salute as they arrived, the pounding of the footsteps a constant reminder of danger in the background. "Everyone present and accounted for, trust us!"

"Move it, thunderheads," I shouted, and they hauled ass into that bus before you could say "_I forgot my toothbrush_".

Scorpius was next, leading a line of orange-haired, green-eyed monsters with battle-lust in their eyes. He nodded curtly to me, but I had no time to deal with him.

Satsuki, for once solemn and focused, arrived with Odd at her side and a mass of her siblings behind. Odd had time to grin good-naturedly and shoot me a thumbs-up before Reese showed up, shoving the Heimdall kids into the bus with his Frey siblings.

"Nice to see you're attentive," he said sardonically, before vaulting up onto the steps.

I stood outside the doors, anxiously awaiting the return of Sierra. From the driver seat, Monica shouted, "Are you getting on or being suicidal?!"

There was a loud, electric noise as the first settlement—Njord, as close as you could get to the water without being in it—was crushed underneath the first boot. The runes—placed by the Aesir to protect us—were destroyed. I almost yelled. Sierra couldn't be there!

She couldn't be—

_Not again…_

But—

There was a blur approaching. One with suspiciously orange hair.

"One kid," Sierra sputtered, skidding to a swift stop beside me. "Sitting pleased as punch in the Freyja settlement with a mirror. I got her, 's all good."

Sure enough, she was dragging a tiny kid with red-peach curls, who was complaining loudly; both were signs of Freyja parentage. I nodded sharply, then pushed both of them promptly into the bus.

The giants were still moving slowly; I barreled into the bus, really panicking now. The bus was dead silent, all breath held in terror. I heard the whimpering of a terrified teenage girl.

"Is everyone present?" I said calmly.

In quick succession, the council members shouted out their parentages to confirm. There was a tense moment when Hope and Jax conferred before shouting "Njord!"

"Then what are we waiting for?! Monica, get us out of this place!" I bellowed, and as a giant foot slammed down besides the bus, we were out of there.

x-x

One of the great things about Gamle-Sti was the bus.

Not even those prissy Greeks had a bus like ours. Frey had had it made for us, blessed by Idun and Bragi. It seemed about the size of a normal school bus, though the inside was big enough for the population of Gamle-Sti and half of the Sanctuary of the Nile - the Egyptian's "camp" - to boot, and was fast enough to get us the Hel away from giants without any trouble.

Of course, it was also bulky, difficult to maneuver, rusty with the concept of braking, and extremely purple, but we made amends. At least it kept us alive.

Monica Turner, female council representative on the Gamle-Sti council, kept a death grip on the wheel as she darted through traffic. (Another fortunate thing the gods had blessed us with - the magical ability to not smash into other cars when we were fleeing for our lives at 100-something miles an hour.) My knuckles were equally white as I held onto the stair rail, staring back behind us.

When the giants were out of sight, I waited for another good five minutes until I finally said, "We've lost 'em, Monica. Give us an empty lot and let's confer."

With an earsplitting screech, Monica wrenched the wheel to the left and sent us skidding into a Sam's parking lot. She slowed down and pulled behind the building, then shuddered to a stop. I was thankful she'd had the sense to do so; a large purple bus with the words "GAMLE-STI INSTITUTE" painted on the side suddenly appearing in a parking lot would have raised a lot of questions that no one really wanted to answer.

Panicked chatter broke out on the bus. I began to feel a little light-headed and sat down on the stairs of the bus.

We'd never been directly invaded before.

Oh, there was the occasional uprising of the Brood in northern Wisconsin, but we'd never had something on this scale. Never had our attackers shattered the rune barrier; they'd burnt themselves to bits on it or sensed it and run away. There was a moment when we found a couple Loki kids working from the inside to weaken the runes, but we'd exiled them.

But this was something completely different. This was power like nothing we'd seen, or ever been prepared to defend ourselves from.

Now our home was gone, destroyed. What would we do? I didn't know.

But I had a small, horrible idea that ate away at me even as I stood and turned to face the rest of Gamle-Sti.

"This is it, guys," I said seriously. "I don't think we'll ever be able to go back there. The giants have found it, and if we go back..." I paused, deliberated. I didn't want to seem too melodramatic, but...

"We're dead if we go back there."

One of the saner-looking Freyja daughters raised a slender, manicured hand. "Warren?" she called, blinking at me with pale violet-red eyes.

"Yes?"

"Where are we going?"

I paused. The horrible idea seemed horrible - but it's not like we had anywhere else to go. The Egyptians would never let us in their camp, and the Celts... I didn't even want to think about them.

"I don't know," I finally said, truthfully. "But, guys - I don't want to freak you out, but-"

I took a deep breath, and with a sinking feeling, I finished, "We might be going to Camp Half-Blood."

And then the bus exploded.


	3. Hunger Moon

**Chapter Two**

**Hunger Moon**

* * *

Well, metaphorically, I suppose.

Hysterical chatter broke out like a tsunami of talk, crashing into me almost as hard as a real thing would. A pink cell phone soared from the group of Freyja children, smacked me in the temple, and clattered to the floor, and I saw a son of Frey bare his teeth at me, but no other reaction.

"Monica," I said, turning to her, "can you hand over the wheel for a while? Someone has to be old enough to drive the bus."

"I am," she said stubbornly, clinging to the wheel. "And I'm a council member besides, so I can be trusted with the bus, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Problem solved."

"But," I continued stubbornly, "we need all the council members in the back. We're having a meeting."

Her face changed, and without another word she pulled the parking brake and hopped out of the driver's seat. "Then what are we waiting for? You! Heimdall boy! Drive the bus. Ten and two, the brake is there, and how old are you? Sixteen! Excellent. Drive."

And she sauntered down the aisle, leaving me to educate said Heimdall boy about where we were going.

"There's a place along the highway managed by a son of Thor," I told him hurriedly. "It goes by the name Hammer and Tongs, it's a trailer park, and he'll let us put the bus there for a night or two if not more. You can see it easy if you go straight. Gotta go."

I chased Monica down the bus, pushing open the door between the bathroom cubicles. It led to a rectangular room, with purple-carpeted walls designed to muffle noise. The floor was white plastic tile, and someone had set a temporary plastic table up along with fifteen-plus metal folding chairs. The chairs were painted a grungy brown, though the paint was worn away at the hinges, and didn't fit at all with the clean appearance of the rest of the room.

Odd Hale and Satsuki Kusakabe sat already. Well, Satsuki sat - Odd was perched on the edge of the table like a bird prepared to fly away at any sudden movements. Monica was sitting at the other end, swinging her legs, and Bindy was lightly banging a pencil on the table. A few more representatives sat around the table, but Sierra was distinctly unpresent.

Just as I was about to ask where the Hel she was, the door banged open, and the devil herself marched in, closely followed by her brother Scorpius. The rest of the missing representatives - Jared, Fax, Hope, and Corinne - filed in after them.

The door was shut, and the room went abruptly quiet.

The council members sat down besides their respective brothers and sisters, staring at me almost accusingly. Like it was somehow my fault that the giants had attacked our home.

It wasn't, but I couldn't change their minds about that any more than I could bring Mallory back from the dead.

"It's the best decision," I offered after a moment. "They have food, shelter, the land to let us live on for a while. The Freys and Idunites can help grow their strawberries, the Bragis would probably help in their sing-alongs if they asked, we could make ourselves useful."

"But Lokis would be demoted to tending the fire with whatever Hestians they might have, yeah?" Sierra said contemptuously. "Get your head out of your ass and figure out that we're animals to them, Tyrsson, we have no chance."

"They don't have any Hestians," my sister said, Pease-ably enough. "Tyrians can help them train, and you and Scorpius are pretty good fighters, right? You can do it as well."

"So we're living war dummies," Sierra's brother grumbled. "Joy."

"We have to go, Lokisson!" I snapped, suddenly on my feet. My knuckles were white, so forcefully was I gripping the table. I was tired of the Loki behavior - didn't they see that we had no other choice? That it was no use trying to find other solutions? _There weren't any._

"Try and make us, Tyrsson!"

Scorpius was on his feet now too, orange-red hair practically spiking with his agitation. His eyes, a slightly darker shade of green than his sister's, with flecks of red near the pupil, bored into mine.

"Sorry, man," I said, in as even a tone as I could manage. "But you can't make like your dad and wriggle out of this, now can you? You have no little hidey-hole to go to."

He lunged forward, and I swear he was about to gut me when Hope and Corinne grabbed him by the upper arms and yanked him back. He was snarling.

"Guys," Hope pleaded, "don't fight! Come on! This isn't about our parents, it's about where we're going to go now that our home is gone!"

Scorpius subsided, still growling low in his throat, and Sierra was looking at me like she'd never seen me before. My fist twitched once, twice, then relaxed. I sat down.

_I let my temper get the better of me again._

"But look," Odd said, staring intently at me. "We can just ask the gods to help us, right? It's not like they'll-"

"Are you kidding me, Oddball?" Sierra cut in. "Are you _shitting_ us?" She stood up, began to pace around the bus's little council compartment. The table's metal legs clattered lightly with the motion of the bus. Sierra's sneakers squeaked on the plastic floor. I could hear the anxious babble from the main part of the bus, but besides the tiny sounds, the room was quiet.

"The gods won't help us," the redhead finally said, bitterly. "Odin won't let them. Didn't you guys hear him? 'Mortals need to learn to take care of themselves, Frigg, without our help! These are resourceful demigods, they'll be okay!'"

Without warning, she whipped around, slamming her fists down on the table. It jumped, almost overbalancing and smacking her in the face, but Reese smacked his palms down before it could. Sierra's eyes were burning green, with a seething rage I could see she'd harbored for years. The ring of burgundy at the edge of her irises seemed to almost glow crimson with her fury.

"The gods don't give a rat's ass about us!" she snarled through her teeth. "So the super-shiny Greek demigods all have their fucking special cabins to go to because the exalted Percy Jackson made a big Uber Super Sparkly Deal with Zeusie-caboosie that gets their obviously beautiful magical sparkly-vampire gods to pretend that they care about their children - or at least stop screwing around with mortals so much so that they don't have to pretend more than necessary." Sierra wiggled her fingers and gave us a thin, mirthless grin. "Yay. Whoopee. Doesn't matter. Our gods just. Don't. Care."

Her piece done, Sierra threw herself back into her chair and grudgingly accepted Odd's semicomforting pat on the shoulder. A moment of slightly stunned silence passed, and then Hope Bannerman raised her hand.

"Yes, Hope?" I inquired.

"I think we should ask the kids," she murmured nervously, blinking at me. "Most of them have been to that place before, they can make their own decisions, right? We can solve this democratically, right?"

"We get last decision, of course," Fax put in. "But we can see what the kids want."

Bindy of Thor made a noncommittal sound and propped her boots up on the table, beginning to drum her No. 2 pencil against the surface of it again. "Why not?" she mumbled. "We'll end up somewhere crappy anyways."

Without another word, we stood and filed out. Anthony had to knock his sister's feet off the table, inciting an irritated grunt.

The bus went quiet as we emerged. The Heimdall boy, who bore a strong and semi-creepy resemblance to Odd, glanced back, saw we were done, and pulled into a rest stop.

"We're gonna take a vote, y'all," Hope said, suddenly cheerful again. Her Texan accent, as it usually was, was even more pronounced now that she was nervous. "Wait while your council members head over, kay?"

Utterly silent, we filed along the bus to our siblings. One of my little sisters, a seven-year-old whose name - if I remembered correctly - was Rose, blinked her big violet eyes at me. They were troubled, and so were the faces of many of my brothers and sisters.

I felt her little hand thread through my fingers as I sat down, and Pease whispered, "Okay, guys, we have two choices. Try to get help from the gods is our first one. Pros: divine intervention, blessings, we get to see Daddy and our uncles and aunts. Cons: they may not help us, Daddy might not be there, and Odin apparently doesn't like us. Show of hands?"

A few of my sisters raised their hands, and I saw at least two brothers nodding at each other.

"Okay, so our second choice is going to Camp Half-Blood. Pros: good food, possible divine intervention, cross-pantheon diplomacy, safety, proving we're just as civilized as those idiots. Cons..." She hesitated, glanced towards me, and soldiered on. "Well, there's only one con: they treat us like crap. All in favor?"

Not a single hand went up.

* * *

It was chaos in the council room when I got back.

None of the Freyja children wanted to go - they said Aphrodite was a poseur and her children had bad hair, bad shoes, bad taste, or all three - but Andy and Zachary were firm in their convictions of going, no matter how bad the hair was. Odd remained neutral, Bindy grunted whether we told her we were going or not, and Satsuki was wildly excited about going. Apparently, during her time at Camp, before anyone knew the Norse were even in existence, she'd made some friends - difficult as it was to equate the concept of friends and Satsuki.

Corinne and Sigurd went with the decision of their siblings - no - while Hope and Fax argued. Eventually Fax cast their majority vote for no, while Hope went reluctantly with neutral.

Monica and Reese of Frey were divided; he cast no while she cast yes, and they spent the rest of the time glaring at each other. Scorpius of Loki remained neutral, and Pease put our majority vote in as a no.

From there it was simple. Anthony, Bindy's brother, and Jared - Bragi - cast yes, deciding that it would only make sense if the gods would reject us anyway. The Camp couldn't kick us off their doorstep, could they? Yvette - also Bragi - took so long in deciding that Sierra just smacked her over the head with a flyswatter after the fourth time she said "Yes- wait, let me think..." and she voted neutral.

Sierra, of course, voted no. "I'm sick of them," she said simply. "I'm sick of being treated like I'm no better than a ping-pong ball because of my dad's pantheon."

And then we had a dilemma.

We had six votes for yes, six votes for no, and five votes neutral. If I voted neutral we would have a stand-off that would involve shouting, Sierra smacking a lot of people with the flyswatter, and probably a duel later. Or just getting someone trustworthy to tiebreak.

Eventually I looked down at the tally paper, looked up at them, and asked simply, "What do you guys want to do?"

"It's been voted on, idiot," Satsuki said. "Don't you look at the paper?"

"... Yes," I said, as dignified as I could be in my state of sudden idiocy, and looked down at it again.

_What would Mallory have wanted to do?_

Well, no question there - if she had been around, the place wouldn't have been destroyed. We'd have had the protection of Hel, because as far as I knew Mallory was her only daughter and therefore, very valuable, right? _Although,_ something in my head said, _if Mallory's that special Hel would have wanted her to stay with her, right? Maybe her mommy killed her._ But I brushed that thought away and concentrated on Lory.

If she had been around and Gamle-Sti, by some cruel twist of fate, _had_ been destroyed, there was no question what she would have wanted to do. Mallory had wanted to experience the whole world of the half-bloods, the demigods, and somehow she would have enjoyed even being abused by the Greek demigods if it meant she could see their world, from their view. She would have loved watching them footrace, and if watching her run that time when Ofnir attacked her made any difference, she might have beaten a few of the nymphs.

_Remember the lightest..._

"Warren?"

"Huh?" My head jerked up. Pease was staring querulously at me, and a few of the other council members were grinding their teeth as they waited for me to decide.

"What's your vote, Tyrsson?" Bindy barked, and in her hand her faithful pencil grew to the size of a stone mallet, elaborately riveted at the junction between head and handle. Restlessly, she smacked the head of it in the palm of her hand.

She was a daughter of Thor for sure.

I surveyed them, my sort-of relatives, and they looked back at me. Their eyes - purple, red, ringed with burgundy or flecked with maroon - regarded me with wariness. Trust. And Sierra's, green with the desire to run far from the Camp she regarded as true Hel, burned at me with intense... pleading.

_Say no. Say no. Please, for the love of Loki, say no, Tyrsson, please._

I looked at them. They looked at me.

"... Let's go to Camp Half-Blood," I said finally, and the hopeful light in Sierra's eyes went out like I'd shot her.

* * *

The manager of Hammer and Tongs was younger than I expected.

A teenager, maybe nineteen, with curly red hair like Bindy and Anthony's was perched on the white picket fence outside the trailer park. He had a dusting of stubble along his jaw, no sign of a mustache, and brilliant wine-colored eyes that flashed with inexplicable glee. "It's the purple bus!" he exclaimed as we pulled in, and vaulted off the fence.

I was the first one out to shake his hand. "Hey," I declared, sticking out my hand to shake. He pumped it energetically. "We're looking for the manager of Hammer and Tongs?"

"That's me," he returned, snapping a salute that almost hit me in the face. "Ted Thorsson, also Ted Prince, also Ted." Ted made an elaborate bow and grinned up at me. "And you?"

"Warren Tyrsson, only Warren Tyrsson, sometimes War," I returned, and motioned to the bus. "We have issues."

His face sobered. "What kind of issues?"

"Our camp's dead," a practical voice came from behind me, and I turned to see Sierra striding towards us. Her hair was tied up in a businesslike flame-colored ponytail, and she had a gleam in her eye that I didn't like. She stopped besides me to put her elbow on my shoulder. "Stomped to death by giant boots. That were attached to giants, in case you were confused. Be kind of funny to see giant boots walking along by themselves, eh, Nuke?"

Her elbow was very pointy in my neck, and I made a face at her. "Nuke?"

"Nuclear Warhead," she said matter-of-factly.

"… Witty. Witty."

"I know, right?" She gave me a brilliant smile and grinned at Ted. "'Sup?"

"Sky," he returned, pointing up with his index finger. "No, but cereally. Gamle-Sti's dead-dead?"

"Maybe not double-dead," I offered. "But definitely deceased."

"Aw, Hel," the man groaned, smacking a hand to his forehead. "And I was considering moving there when Hammer and Tongs closed. Tinsnips."

"Sweet aluminum," Sierra agreed, and suddenly held out her palm flat. At least it wasn't digging into my neck anymore. Ted did the same, so their hands were a few inches apart.

"The snails aren't dangerous," Sierra intoned solemnly, staring at Ted as if in a staring contest.

"Unless you provoke them," Ted replied, returning the look.

There was a tense moment, and then both of them cackled like idiots and smacked a high five. "So we have a deal, my man!" Sierra shouted gleefully, and ran back to the bus. I stared after her, utterly confused, then looked at Ted.

"What the Hel?"

"I have no idea," he told me seriously, and then snapped me an optimistic salute. "So! Tyrsson! Follow the yellow brick road—or actually, me. There is no yellow brick road. Or spoon. Fetch the coconuts!"

And off he ran though the morass of trailers. I had no choice but to race after him, motioning over my shoulder to the bus. It started up and began rolling forward after us.

We wound through the maze of trailers that made up Hammer and Tongs Park until we came to a large square grassy area that looked like a campground. Ted planted himself in it and began waving his arms in the "stop" motion. The bus was right behind me. I leapt out of the way as it screeched by me, pausing not a foot from Ted's face.

"Right-o," he stated, and sauntered over to the side of the bus. The doors opened, releasing a wave of demigods that almost smothered him. When the dust cleared he was nowhere to be seen, and for a moment I almost panicked, wondering if somehow he'd been eaten—when he appeared out of the bus, Sierra on his back, gleefully sniggering like an idiot.

"FLEE FOR THE HILLS!" he yelled, running across the grass, and abruptly overbalanced when Sierra threw her arms into the air. They toppled backwards, both laughing like drunkards, and just lay there for a moment trying to catch their breath. I walked over while they were still disoriented and leaned over.

"Are you guys drunk?"

"Possibly," Sierra said, sounding tired, and sat up. "Can I sleep?"

"No. No sleep. You are staying awake to roast the small children," Ted said emphatically, and jumped up to pull Sierra up with him. "We will get you an ice pack and then play hit little kids with a rope! Okay?"

"Hit little kids with a rope!? I love that game!" she said, sounding excited, and immediately ran off to find a rope.

I stared at Ted. "Do you have meds, man?"

"I wasn't hugged enough as a child," he said mournfully, and was immediately tackled by a hammer-wielding Bindy. I left when she started biting his ear. As a sign of affection, I was sure.

We spent the rest of the day getting everyone set up temporarily. We'd put a store of sleeping bags in the cargo part of the bus for just such an unlikely occasion, and everyone was set up under a tree soon enough. For the first time in a while, we integrated the parentages—there was no Tyr or Njord section, and we looked more like an actual camp-type place instead of segregated.

I stood on a slightly raised section with a tree, looking over the population of the place I'd called home, when Ted tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hey, man," he said in greeting. "Look, just so you know—the defenses on this place are real weak. We have enough to fend off some monstrosities and the etcetera, but I can only put you up for a night if the giants are pursuing. Do you have a destination?"

"Camp Half-Blood."

His eyes flashed with surprise. "Wow. That's pretty BA. If I was you—which I thank Thor I'm not, man, hammers are so much cooler than whatever the Hel your dad uses, no offense—I'd consider myself an amazing dude for even trying to go there. Last time I went there I got kicked out, my friend. Said I was too Norse, whatever that means."

My hand tightened on the hilt of my sword, on my hip as usual. So they were still up to their pantheist idiocy.

"Why were you there anyway?" I said as calmly as I could. He shrugged.

"Wanted to see if I could get a job in their forge. I'm pretty BA with a hammer, obvis. But they don't want Norsemen, methinks. Their loss. Lamers."

He gave me a crooked smile not dissimilar to a certain red-haired friend of mine and scampered off down the rise, shouting something to Scorpius about Scrabble and a pen. I stood on the rise a little while longer, before I, too, descended.

"Can you get the council together?" I asked Pease, and she nodded. She bounded off through the morass of people, and I waited until the council members were in a loose circle around me.

"Sierra and I first watch, nine to ten-thirty," I said. "Ted says the defenses aren't that good, so I think it'd be a good thing to keep track. Anthony and Hope second, Reese and Yvette third. Everyone else decide for themselves. Hour-and-a-half cycles, don't go with your sibling."

The members nodded, and those I had named dispersed from the group. The rest collected in a brief huddle, haggled over watches, and dissipated into the crowd. Only Sierra and I remained.

"Want to get some sleep beforehand?" I inquired, and she nodded.

I went back up the rise and sat down, propping myself up on the tree so I could face outward. My eyes closed for a few minutes, and when I opened them the sun had almost completely gone down.

"What time is it?" I slurred.

_Damn. Apparently when I sleep, I sleep hard…_

"Seven-fifteen," someone said from behind me, and I turned to see Hope waving tentatively. "Come and get some dinner. Ted made hot dogs. I had a tofu dog."

"There are such things as tofu dogs?" I grumbled, and got to my feet. My knees were stiff and my neck hurt. Never falling asleep by a tree again, I promised myself, and then my stomach dragged me down the rise to the hot dogs.

When nine o'clock rolled around, everyone was pretty much asleep. A few Loki children were telling ghost stories around a fire one of them had summoned, and some of the Bragi children were singing, but besides that it was quiet. I motioned to Sierra, and we ascended the rise.

It was quiet for about fifteen minutes while we simply sat and tried to stay alert. Sierra had taken my advice and gotten some sleep, but not followed my example and slept on some actual sleeping bags. I kept turning my neck and encountering another ache in some part of it.

When she finally spoke, I almost thought I was imagining it.

"I hate you."

"What?"

"I hate you."

"Why?"

I heard a sigh. She was sitting on the other side of the tree, playing around with a DS she'd lifted from some innocent other person—probably herself—and I couldn't see her.

"Camp Half-Blood."

"What about it?"

"I hate you."

"So I've heard."

"I hate that camp, Warren. You know I hate that camp. You hate that camp too! You know how they feel about us!"

"We don't have any other choice, Sierra."

"We could ask Daddy." Her voice was so low that once again, I thought I could be imagining it. "Loki—he would know something. I know he would. Some little hidey-hole somewhere that we could go to." This last sentence was said in so bitter a tone that I almost flinched.

"I didn't mean that."

"Yes. You did." Now her voice was filled with a seething hatred. "You might not mean it now. You might not even think you meant it then. But you meant it. And I hate you."

"You don't mean that—!"

"Yes. I do. I might not mean it later. I might not even think I mean it now. But I mean it. And I hate you. And I'm enjoying it."

"Sierra—"

"Don't talk to me, Warren. Don't even try to talk to me. I know because you're the eldest son of Tyr you think you're the super sparkly vampire special. But I'm the eldest daughter of Loki, and I have two half-brothers that can rip you apart. And let's not forget I'm your girlfriend's aunt."

This casual mention of Mallory sent a lance of pain through my chest. "Sierra, she isn't my girlfriend."

"Then get your head out of the past and try to figure out how to pay attention to someone other than yourself. And while you're at it, just go play house with Percy Jackson, why don't you?" I heard the clunking of her DS closing and the soft thumps of fading footsteps, and when I peered around the tree I saw her making her way to the other side of our little campground.

_Sierra…_

When Anthony came to relieve me, I didn't know whether the ache behind my eyes was from fatigue or suppressed angst. I didn't know if it had been a good idea to even consider going to Camp. I didn't know whether I should have gone to get Mallory or let someone else handle it, maybe better.

I didn't know whether I'd just lost another friend temporarily—or forever.

* * *

I dreamed that night, after I'd curled up in my sleeping bag near the bus.

I hadn't dreamed for months, ever since just after Mallory's death—nightmares. Eventually I'd just gone to Sigurd, who'd given me some herbs from his mother's garden to chase away the bad dreams. And I'd slept soundly since, even when I stopped eating them.

It seemed like another nightmare at first. I was sitting at a library table, softly lit by blue light, although I couldn't see the source.

And Mallory was sitting across from me.

The rune Naudr was etched across her collarbone—she was wearing an old-fashioned dress with sleeves that draped down over her upper arms and left her shoulders bare—and glowed faintly red in the dim azure light. She didn't look dead; at least not to me. Her hair was straight and clean, falling over her shoulder and blending into the darkness, and when she looked at me her eyes were clear and brightly claret.

"Hey, War," she said, and her voice didn't echo like it usually did in dreams. Her hands were threaded together to support her chin, and her nails were well-kept, I noticed when she took one from the link to wave at me. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

"Your…" I looked around. Yes. Definitely a library, with long flowing drapes over the windows and rows of bookshelves.

She laughed a little, maybe sensing my confusion. "Hel yeah! Well, actually, technically this is Niorun's library, but she lets me into it when I get bored. And 'cause I have to use it sometimes."

"Niorun?" The name was familiar. Didn't we have a child of Niorun in what used to be Gamle-Sti?...

"Goddess of dreams, Warren. Do you need to study your Norse mythology? I think you do." She giggled again, this time a little hysterically. "Dude, I'm just so relieved to see you! I've been trying to contact you ever since I had time to sit down and read all the Norse myths and found out about Niorun."

My head felt fuzzy, and for a moment I was probably close to waking up. "So is this a dream? Wait. But… you're dead, so it has to be a dream."

"That's the point, Warren." Her voice was amused. "This _is_ a dream! Niorun was kind enough to allow me the use of her library to contact me, but I've been trying for a while now and you haven't been around. Don't eat any more dream-killers, okay? I'll be pissed."

She indicated a rather thick tome that was lying on the table in between us. "I've had time to read the Norse myths, as I said. It's been… how much time since I died? A few months? A year? You don't seem any older."

"Six months," I agreed, and looked at her again. She didn't seem any older either. She… spoke differently. She was more serious, if not in attitude then in speech, and when she looked at me it was with the eyes of someone who knew more than I did.

"So… you're in Hel and contacting me," I said slowly, and she nodded excitedly. "Why?"

Her eyes flashed with glee and she tapped the book. "I have a riddle for you."

What?

"Why would I need a riddle?"

She tilted her head, smiled at me charmingly. "I'll come back if you solve it."

_That_ got my attention. I sat up straight, palms on the table, and looked straight at Mallory.

"Tell me," I said intently, and she laughed.

"Gods, Warren, lighten up!" She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms, and put a finger on her lip while she stared at me contemplatively.

After a minute or two, she nodded. Then she leaned forward and whispered, "_Killed by another through means of his brother, his mother had prayed but he could not be saved. He fell through the fire to daughter's desire and tears of the world could have saved him but no._"

Looking pleased with her cleverness, Lory sat back and waggled her eyebrows at me. "So? So? C'mon! C'mon!"

I frowned. _Tears of the world…_ that sounded familiar. And…

"Wow. Are you sure you read all of the Norse myths?" Mallory put in, and I scowled at her.

"I will smack you with the Benign Stick of Evil," I told her, and she laughed gleefully. "You can't solve it! You can't solve it!" she sing-songed.

"Oh, great, now she has to discover her mom's love for riddles," I muttered, and she nodded in agreement.

"They boggle the mind! The soul! And occasionally they eat your face!"

"… You're turning into Satsuki."

"Who's Satsuki?"

For a moment I had forgotten she hadn't ever met any of my friends, and sorrow wedged itself into my ribcage. "Nothing. A friend. Will I see you again? Do I have to solve it now?"

Her eyes grew serious. "Soon, Warren. Please. The Fates spun this thread for me, when I as a Norse demigoddess am out of their jurisdiction, and we need to show them that they can't just do that. That it isn't their place to decide who lives and who dies in other pantheons."

I nodded. "So I'll see you again?"

"Mmm… Nah." She examined her nails casually. "I'm really bored of your ass."

"… Hey."

"Fine, yes, okay, gods, why are you so _pushy_?" Mallory made an aggrieved face at me, then winked.

I think she said something like "later, lamer, but I love you anyway," but I wasn't sure, because the next thing I knew I was staring at the sunrise. I could hear people shouting, and I saw young children stirring in their sleeping bags around me. Someone—Pease, I thought—shook my shoulder and crooned, "Wake up, Warren. Big day, etcetera."

For a second I was disoriented. Was this Gamle-Sti? Why were we all outside? Why was Sierra looking at me like she wanted to eat my head for dinner?

Then I remembered. Gamle-Sti was dead. We didn't have a place to sleep. And Sierra hated me.

It was time to go to Camp Half-Blood.

* * *

**Sorry for the late update.** I've been trying to prewrite at least a chapter ahead before posting the last one.

Think of Chapter 2 as a late New Year's present?...


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